My Russian Dog

Stories of dog’s life in Leningrad
russian dog

The First Acquaintance

Somewhere in the middle of a snowy, frosty Leningrad winter, in the evening, the apartment bell rang. I opened the door and found Galina, my wife, on the threshold, holding a dog in her arms, along with two bags full of food. Without a shadow of doubt or hesitation, the dog jumped down from Galina’s arms, ran quickly through all the rooms, its claws tapping on the parquet floor and, happily waving its stump of a tail, returned to the hallway with a tennis ball clenched in its teeth. I carefully removed the ball from its mouth and threw it into the living room. Slipping on the floor, the dog rushed after the ball and in a few seconds, was already standing in front of me offering to continue the game.

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